He folded her to his heart, and the rich harvest moon had sunk far below the horizon, ere these two kindred spirits had wearied of the glorious night.

Mr. Santon had not felt the utter desolation, after the first overpowering sense of grief had passed, after his wife’s death, that he would have felt had he had no one upon whom to have leaned.  As it was, his home was not desolate, for he cherished his daughter as the “apple of his eye,” and he had come to be like himself again.  Happy faces met him as he came in wearied from his duties “on ’change,” and he had again assumed his easy, jocose manners.  Natalie was still continuing her studies, making unprecedented progress, to the rapturous delight of the Signor; while Winnie enlivened the whole household.

As mistress of the mansion she had new duties to discharge, though they were not so arduous as to deprive her of entertaining the young aspirants to her hand, who if they did not throw themselves at her feet, it was only for the want of an opportunity.  And thus was everything going on harmoniously at Santon Mansion, when, to the no little surprise of every one, it was rumored that the wealthy Mr. Santon was about to introduce to his domains a new mistress.  No one was more taken by surprise than were Winnie and Natalie.  They could hardly credit their senses, when Mr. Santon congratulated his daughter on the prospect of having a new mother.

Poor Winnie! she tried to smile, and she tried to make one of her most brilliant remarks, as she congratulated her father on his happiness; yet it was not like herself, and Natalie could see, what Mr. Santon in his blindness of joy did not discern,—­there was no heart in his daughter’s mechanical tones.  Winnie had not as yet seen her intended mother-in-law; she might be all that could be desired of one standing in that peculiar relation, and she might be otherwise; it was not that which had quelled the buoyant spirits of the heiress, it was that she shrank from the thought of any one so soon filling her own dear mother’s station, and she hid her face in Natalie’s golden tresses, as her father left the room, and burst into tears.

“Dear, dear Natalie,” she exclaimed, “you will think me so wicked!  But I wanted no other mother than you!  Though you are younger than myself, I have learned to look up to you, as a valuable bequest left me by my mother, who smiled even in death, when you promised never to forget me.  We are happy now; why need a stranger come among us?  Oh, Natalie, I never can part from you!”

“Hush! hush! dear Winnie, you must not think thus! you may come to love your new mother, filling the most sanguine wishes of your father’s heart, who would be wretched, if his daughter were not reconciled to her who will stand in the nearest relation to him.”

And thus the Sea-flower endeavored to prepare Winnie’s mind for receiving her new mother, who would so soon take her place at the head of this once unbroken family, as became a meek and dutiful child; but she did not tell her of the trembling within her own heart, lest this new tie should prove a source of sorrows, sowing her youthful heart with seed which might be productive of bitter among the sweets; neither did she know of the prayers of the innocent maiden, that hers might be a thornless path.